by the window,
gazing on the crescent moon,
cold breezes tear through the room,
the night sky,
glistening monochrome picture,
the beauty reminds me of you,
goose bumps graze the skin,
reality fades away,
and,
involuntarily end up on your world,
The first letter i wrote you,
lays on my hand,
i spilt my heart out for you,
asked to take you out too,
wind blows pieces of paper,
and there lies the fourth letter,
i wrote, it's a poem
scripted script less,
written from the edges of my thought's,
as words coined at will,
i think you would've liked it,
the ending, a cretan,
sends me to the second letter,
a rhyme, declaring
my love for you,
a lovely one,
but the brightest thought's,
bloom the darkest,
and then reality keeps up,
it haunt's you know,
knowing my heart harbors affection,
for you,but silence rule's my mouth,
knowing my brittle heart,
would easily fall for her charm's,
letters didn't see the mail man,
i once dropped it at your doorstep,
wore a cape to get the courage,
to knock,and i did,
but instead i woke up.

a god of his own
ripping the world up to shreds
wreaking hell
bringing havoc
metallic punishments,piercing the air
pulling the pleasure out from mortal wounds within
who will judge the ungodly or godless
bound to loveless and unloved
dying just as he was

i still dream about my lover
crossing 7 rivers on her old boat,

rowing ripples of sorrow,
formed by droplets of tears

that moon-walked down her cheeks,
like silver lines in dark clouds

running like water fall, down a hill,
falling with deep sighs, with each clock tick

every drop into the river sings a song
as she rows along:

'take me deeper than my fears/
do not taste like my tears/
fare me well to yonder shores/
do not draw me to his voice'

too late

there were days of sunshine and plenty,
when the wind was art and poetry,
how much of him was loved?

there were days when rain was heavy,
when affection was your vanity,
how much of him was loved?

now, by untamed naivety
and itchy ears of the gullible laity,
you laid off, like Jonah,
the plot of your journal,

tell me,
how far are you from where he drowned?
not long, yet you miss him sore?

for along you row,
deep he sank and swam,
calling and pleading and hoping
you'd, for past's sake, heed

but your sadness waved back,
like stray dogs wave tails,
you couldn't, again bark,
when you met your fears,

not so long a time,
'time is the balm'
you claimed, but look, dear dame,
who's got no healing

i still dream about my lover
crossing 7 rivers on her old boat,

on lonely nights of cold
and faint moon lightning

her voice floating in the wind
that swishes west to east,

while an interlude of distant thunder,
rumble in low solemn tones
the song she left unsung:

'take me deeper than my fears/
do not taste like my tears/
fare me well to yonder shores/
do not draw me to his voice'

Consider a bee
while the sunbeams dance on a bench in front of a melting clock
Consider a bee
while the cradling mankind sees a gun under the pillow and feels safe.
The dust of the soul,
the soul dusts away
The bee
buzzzzzzzzzzzz
Interrupts a series of copulations
and a run across the industrial lawn

buzzzzzzz
The sacrifice
of a fat lobster named eternal consciousness
garlic sliced bread & a fear of a thing
as per the given prescription?
am I right?

I have no more time for such nonsense,
Consider a bee
5 more minutes, a 90-degree angle, you are dead.



- Samar Charulingah Godfrey

The permanence of the effect of our existence and actions terrifies me. This contemporary mood swings both ways, however. My love for love outweighs and overthrows my need for food, for sleep, for air to breathe... And you, I am in awe of... My eyes do not see anything else. My heart does not desire anything else. Forever blinded by pretty girls, my naïve eyes and thoughts are focused on you. My naïve heart beats just for you. I am way too full-on, far too all-at-once, but you admire that about me and I deeply, deeply admire you.